


Halla

by theLiterator



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-28
Updated: 2010-03-28
Packaged: 2017-10-08 09:49:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/75429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theLiterator/pseuds/theLiterator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're used to getting each other out of trouble and bad situations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Halla

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amasa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amasa/gifts).



> Thanks to Traxits for looking it over for me.

They found Maren's missing halla, half-submerged in a brook. It was bleating in pain, and Theron could see where its bone had pierced the skin of its leg.

He felt Tamlen's presence just to his left, familiar and reassuring, and knelt at the edge of the brook.

The poor creature was half-drowned.

Tamlen crouched beside him, examining the creature himself with a heavy sigh.

"Maren is going to be very upset," he said.

Theron nodded, feeling hyper aware of everything around them: the dirt beneath his knees and under his nails; the happily burbling stream, tainted as it was by the halla's blood; the soft noises of the halla; the wind through the trees. Mostly, though, he was aware of Tamlen, crouched beside him though he was not supposed to leave the camp, punishment for something Theron had done-- at least this time.

"We should pull her out, at least," Tamlen said after a few moments.

Theron nodded, sliding the coiled rope off of his shoulder. They would have to winch the halla doe out of the water in order to see to her injury.

Theron didn't dare consider that the break would be too bad to tend.

He and Tamlen had been working together since they were very small, since Theron's parents had had their accident and Theron had been all alone.

They moved without speaking, tying knots and wrapping a make-shift halter around the halla. Theron took the task of soothing her, as he'd always had a defter hand with animals. Tamlen anchored the winch, finally, and the two of them hauled her out of the water.

Her bleating turned frantic.

Theron rushed to her side, petted her nose and murmured soothing words as he ran his fingers through her fur. They came away bloody.

He sucked in a breath, and Tamlen rushed back to his side.

"What is it, lethallin?"

He shook his head, and Tamlen seized his wrist. "Oh," he said, and his grip turned viselike. "_Abelas,_" he said softly. Theron bit his lip.

"It is not your fault," Theron argued, tugging his hand away.

"You would have come sooner if not for me, and--"

"And she still would have been injured, and I would have arrived alone."

"I am still sorry, lethallin. This is not... comfortable."

Theron nodded, grateful for Tamlen's presence, his utter calm and ability to push his emotions aside for practicality. He dipped his bloodied hand in the stream to clean it, watching the rusty swirls as they dissipated in the current.

Tamlen had prodded the wound on her side further, but it was deep, and already growing foul. Theron tried not to gag at the sight of it, seeping red and painful-looking.

"Look away," Tamlen advised. Theron didn't. He held the doe's head in his lap and watched as Tamlen pressed gentle fingers into her wound, traced around the compound fracture of her leg.

"There is nothing we can do for her," Tamlen said finally. "We can only aid her passing."

Theron jerked his head up to meet Tamlen's gaze. "We... I cannot!"

Tamlen's stare turned hard. "It is _mercy_. She suffers badly, and will die anyway. If we do not do this thing, she will die slowly, perhaps not until sunrise tomorrow. Would you have this?"

Theron swallowed hard. "I do not want that, no. But is it right? To kill her like this? We gain nothing from her death. It is... it is slaughter."

Tamlen moved to touch Theron's cheek. "It is mercy."

Theron nodded against Tamlen's hand after a moment. "I know," he said, the words choked and dry.

Tamlen looked at him a moment longer, thumb brushing lightly along his cheekbone, before he reached for Theron's dagger. Tamlen rarely carried much more than an eating knife and his sword, and neither would do here.

The snick of the blade as it was withdrawn from its leather sheathe sounded like finality.

Tamlen withdrew his hand from Theron's cheek, moved it to rest on the doe's shoulder.

"Emma ir abelas, lethallan," he said softly, before he silently slit her throat. Theron felt something inside him shift and slide and resettle, and he knew tears stained his cheeks.

Tamlen wrapped his arm around Theron's shoulders, pushing him up from the ground to leave the doe's head lolling. She was dead now, he knew, and he knew it was better, but it _hurt_.

No living thing should die, not one who had done no wrong in her short existence. The halla were beautiful, and they were friends to his people. It may have been the right thing to do, but it was the wrong ending regardless.

Tamlen guided away from her, upstream, and urged him out of his clothes. They were stained with her blood, and he was only too happy to remove them.

When he had agreed to Maren's request, he had not anticipated this.

Tamlen let him be for several minutes before breaking the quietude with a harsh declaration. "I would do it for you."

"You-- what?" Theron asked, startled.

"If you were dying, and there was nothing to be done. Would you not want me to take away that pain?"

Theron clenched his fists, turning away from his friend. "I don't know."

"You do know. You would want that."

Theron shook his head violently. "No! I could never ask that... could never..."

"I would do it if you asked it of me," Tamlen said quietly.

"I know," Theron said simply. He was weeping again, for a different reason. He could not promise the same.

Tamlen touched his shoulder, and Theron turned to face him. Tamlen stood bare of everything but the vallaslin, and Theron couldn't help but admire the sight.

No matter the circumstances, Tamlen's body was easy to appreciate, muscles lean and hard from life as a hunter, feet and hands calloused from running barefoot through the woods and climbing trees and scrambling over boulders.

Theron knew, objectively, that they looked very similar, but he couldn't help the thrill that always went through him when he saw Tamlen like this. Bare and in his element, the leaves of the trees and the rocks in the stream the perfect backdrop for him. He tried, occasionally, to imagine what an elf from the city might look like, but he could not get a clear picture.

Tamlen smiled at him, and Theron gathered his wits about him. Despite what had been necessary, he must continue to be alert and strong. The woods were familiar, but no less dangerous for the familiarity.

"I am sorry I was not... of more help to you," Theron said finally.

Tamlen stepped closer still, so that Theron could feel the warmth of his body, smell the sweat on his skin. "I am not. You would not be Theron if you could do that thing."

Theron bowed his head, and Tamlen's hand shot forward to stop him. "There is no shame in being unable to shed blood. Doubtless Keeper will find a way to praise you and punish me for what happened today."

Theron's eyes went wide. "No! No, I don't want..." Tamlen leaned forward and silenced him with a soft, brief kiss.

"It would not matter if she did. You would simply rescue me and take me on another adventure. A better one, I am certain."

"Yes," Theron said on a sigh. "Next time will be better. I promise. Though I do believe it is your turn to rescue me from unwanted chores."

Tamlen laughed quietly. "Better then? Have you recovered? Our clothes will be damp still, but Maren deserves to know."

"Yes," Theron said. "Better. Thank you."

Tamlen kissed him once again, before bending to collect their clothing. "Good. I'm glad."

**Author's Note:**

> As ever, comments are love.


End file.
